


relentless

by stelgibson



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Broken Hearts, F/M, Smut, this is a sad one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:07:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27263974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stelgibson/pseuds/stelgibson
Summary: life is relentlessloneliness is ever presentand dana scully and fox mulder are well versed and forever fated
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Kudos: 19





	relentless

**Author's Note:**

> trying something new. this one should hurt a little bit.

Life is relentless. It’s wave after wave, only two hours of sleep every night, heart racing, nerve-wracking anxiety. It’s the inconsistency, lack of a steady pace. It’s about unspeakable tragedies and horrifying motives and a fear of things never going back to normal. 

Life is unforgiving. It pushes you into the ground, face in the mud, and then it’ll rain while you’re already down. It’s constant like the waves of the ocean, like the rotation of the earth on its axis, like the need to be absolved of sin.

—//—//—//—

The orgasm is wrenched out of her, the release exquisite. Tears spill as she tumbles over the edge, a sob building in her chest, her heart full and beating against her ribs, her fingers hooked around his neck. His breath is fire at her throat, his hands imprinted in her waist like a puzzle, covered in a sheen of sweat. Dripping. She memorizes his kisses along her sternum, his tongue lapping at her, worshipping her like she’s his last breath on this plane of existence. She feels the ghost of his fingers on her ink, and swears she’ll never forget the way he fills her up and takes care of her as she falls. Her heart is heavy with his dependency, his need to make her come again, to bring her absolute pleasure, her body is altar, his face crumpled up as he spills into her, their tears warm as they kiss on the way down. They lay intertwined, pushing away the inevitable pain of the next day, of the morning sun reminding them that this was it, the last time, this would happen never again. His unrestrained worship of her body, kisses like wine, love stretching far and wide like a field in bloom, his desperation to stay with her forever and ever imprinted in her soul. His beg for forgiveness is ringing clear, on his knees, ready to pray to her god that he doesn’t even believe in. He only believes in her, and that hits him like a truth, like the only truth, when she leaves the next day, cloaked in silence and strength, an enormous amount of willpower. That’s when his tears spill, an endless river, gasping in this newfound silence. 

—//—//—//—

Loneliness is ever present. It sits in the air like nitrogen, except it should only make up seventy-eight percent of the air. But lately it feels like that percentage is slowly climbing, threatening to stop her in her tracks, gasping for air, for his presence.

Loneliness hits when you least expect it. Ever crushing darkness, a vacuum. It’s numbing, leaves you hollowed out, a shell, existing in between the phases of the moon, fading.

But this time she stands tall, even when she doesn’t want to. She stays strong, even when she shouldn’t have to. Because she won’t break down until it’s at home, until she’s alone, until she can soothe in silence, the constant in her life, gone, like water down the drain, like stardust sucked up by a black hole, gone forever without a trace left behind.

—//—//—//—

Her hair falls over her eyes, fingers shaking as she lights the cigarette. It’s bitter on her lips, reminiscent of anger and unchecked teenage rebellion. Flashes of hanging outside windows and under the bleachers, in the dark, cloaked in shadows and wrapped in moonlight flit before her eyes. Of stolen kisses with off limits men, of her heart drumming quick, the action ritual and burned into her frontal lobe, like instinct. It’s the courage she needs to keep walking, the click of her heels echoing off the concrete.

She shows up at the swanky bar, the pointed toes of her patent leather heels unscuffed and two inches taller than she’s used to. Her lips are crimson, chin held high as she saunters to the bar. It’s dim; she’s surrounded by suits and skirts, hushed conversations and muted jazz. It’s the type of place the main character of the movie orders an extra dry martini with an olive, lipstick smudged on the glass. She feels out of place, but looks like she belongs, hair freshly cut and dress fitted, the skirt pulled taut across her hips. She knows how good she looks, her false confidence radiating from her carefully constructed demeanor. She sits at the bar, legs crossing and the top of her stockings rub against her dress, and it feels delicious. Pairs of eyes bore into her back, and she straightens up, fiddling with the napkin the bartender set down.

“What can I get you?”

She mulls over the thought of that dry martini, of whiskey, neat, of an old fashioned. But she sticks with the basics, already a little out of her element.

“Chardonnay, please.” The bartender works quietly, sliding the glass over. Dana thanks her with a quick nod, and swivels around, scanning the bar and taking in the room. People sitting in the shadows, small chatter and seductive looks, the air filled with cover up business meetings, classy updos and make believe wealth, of dirty thoughts and small kisses below the ear.

The alcohol does it’s job effectively, slowly breaking down the tension in her shoulders, two glasses in, the wine becoming water, her tongue getting heavy. She feels the warmth in her cheeks, and feels the need to exchange silly words of affection with someone, to share in a night of raw desire, of forgettable names and the feeling of warm hands enveloping her waist; of fullness and the lord’s name taken in vain, rolling off her lips like clockwork.

The moment is here, the proposition she came here for, sooner than she expected. The free drink gets sent her way, a shot of tequila and a lime, a bad decision she wants to make. But when she locks eyes with her suitor, her smirk is frozen on her lips, faced with the reason she’s here in heels she never wears, in silk meant to adorn the floor of bedrooms she’ll never see again, in lingerie that renders herself speechless.

Her blue eyes cut through him like glass, he feels like he’s bleeding out on the sidewalk, mouth agape and eyes glassy. He can’t meet her gaze for more than a second. The betrayal is bitter like bile on the back of her tongue, her heart sinking, her vision going dark, obsidian. She feels the pressure in her chest build, the crease between her eyebrows etched, her nails digging into her palms. The silence is piercing, a dagger in the back, unrelenting pain.

The past comes rushing back and she’s dizzy, slapped by the audacity of this man, the audacity of men, the way he thinks he can waltz back into her life, unannounced, without a care for her well-being, without consideration, when they promised to not do this. They promised, and promised, and promised, but yet he’s here, jaw set and sleeves rolled.

The way his hair is mussed takes her back to long car rides in states she’d never seen, to sunflower seeds and diet cokes and her breath catching in her throat when he looked her way, to the light flirtation and the smiles she would suppress. She was so green, so young, called to be a leader so early, called to fight and to protect, but unable to protect herself, her body, those she loves, those who loved her. She crashes back down and remembers the pattern, the pain, the heartbreak, the way she had to pick up her pieces and guard her heart, the way her exterior was cracking under the pressure, the blind trust in the mission and the endeavor for the truth and in _him._

And she knows there’s no escape from this, from them, it’s just her and him, and him and her, they are fated like star-crossed lovers, almost doomed in this life but barely hanging on, saved by science and facts and a trust she can never find again. She can’t get rid of this, no matter how many layers she’s shed, no matter the upgrade from baggy suits to fitted blazers, from low pumps to patent leather, from soft bangs to a severe bob.

He appears directly in her line of vision, a whisper away from her personal space which he so quickly became a master at invading. Her whole life flashes in front of her, years condensed to seconds and then she’s brought to this point, reality bleak and dark and cold.

“Come home,” he whispers in her ear. “Dana, please.”

She stills, rigid, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

And as her hand collides with his cheek, the slap cracking in the air, the room suddenly stills, barring them. They’re in free fall, the only people on the surface of this earth, destinies intertwined, haunting each other till the end.

His face stings in the dim light and she turns on her heel, walking out in step to the beat of their tragically synced broken hearts.

**Author's Note:**

> and there we have it. i would love it if you lmk what you think!


End file.
